


Mutual Aid

by firesign10



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Dean, Fuck Or Die, M/M, Rough Sex, Sex Pollen, Top John
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-20 19:00:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16143476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firesign10/pseuds/firesign10
Summary: Prompt: sex pollen or that kind of thing on a hunt, only it's Dean and John, and it is so awkward. They haven't even talked about sex, beyond 'the talk' long ago .





	Mutual Aid

**Author's Note:**

> One of my 2018 Masquerade fills.

“Shit.”

Dean collapsed into one of the motel room's rickety chairs. He rubbed his face with both hands as if to clean it off, sighing deeply.

Not like cleaning it off would do any good now.

The door opened and John came in, dropping his weapons duffle with a thump. He strode past Dean and headed into the bathroom, turning on the water full blast and dousing his head and hands in it.

Dean snorted. “Give it up, Dad. That's not going to do a damn thing. We were screwed from the get-go.”

John shut off the water and toweled his hair and face. He came back into the bedroom and dropped down onto the bed. “Had to try.”

“I know.” Dean reached over and picked up the bottle of whiskey they'd left on the table. He unscrewed the cap and took a big swig, offering it to John afterward. John nodded and took it, letting the booze pour down his throat for a minute. “Okay, so...how are we going to do this?”

John slammed the bottle down on the table. “I don't know, Dean! What do you suggest? I'm not up on the protocols of father and son incest!” His face was dark with anger and frustration, black eyebrows knitted together. Anyone less accustomed to his moods would have been taken aback, but Dean wasn't taking any of his shit today. 

“Me either, but we don't have a choice here! That fucking fairy hit us with pollen before she kicked it, and from her snide remarks, it's most likely sex pollen. Now, I'm fine with waiting a bit to see if that's the case, but I don't plan on expiring from a literal case of blue balls. So, Dad, you're going to have to suck it up and take a walk on the wild side here.” Dean snatched up the bottle and took another swig. “Let's just decide now who's gonna do what.”

John looked at Dean with blatant alarm. “What do you mean?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “What do you mean, what do I mean? Well, tab A is going to have to go into slot B, so who's gonna be A and who's gonna be B?”

John's alarm turned into an expression of horror. Dean sighed. “Fine. I'll be slot B, you big chicken.”

“Dean! Have you...done this before?” John asked incredulously.

“Not with a guy! Did a little, uh, fingering with a couple of chicks.” Dean winked at John, enjoying the chance to shock him. “One time played with a strap-on.”

John shuddered. Dean laughed. “Don't knock it 'til you've tried it.” He got up. “I'm going to take a shower while we wait.”

He could tell before he finished his shower that the pollen was kicking in. His skin was extra sensitive, almost tingly, and as he soaped himself, his dick sprang to attention in seconds. He gave himself a few luxurious, soapy strokes, then reached around and soaped up his hole, slipping a slick finger in. By the time he rinsed and toweled off, his dick was leaking and his balls were aching. “Jesus,” he muttered. “Here goes nothing.” Wrapping his towel around his waist—why bother getting dressed—Dean rejoined his father.

John was no innocent about either sex or magic, so he too had prepared. He was lying undressed on one of the beds, a couple of condoms and a tube of lube next to him. He was running one hand up and down his cock; it jutted up from the black hair at his groin, dark and fat, and Dean gulped a little, trying to envision it jamming into his ass.

“Okay, um, so I guess you're ready,” he said, clutching his towel, suddenly reluctant to let it go. Hunting together, living in tight quarters, Dean had seen his father naked many times, and vice versa. Yet now it was all different, and an unaccustomed shyness seized Dean. He shuffled toward the bed, unable to stop staring at John's meaty cock.

“Dean, I'm not any happier about this than you are. At no point have I ever said that I want to fuck one of my sons. But we have to get through this, so man up and drop the towel.” John's voice had that stern tone Dean knew so well, although usually it was “Dean, target practice” or “Dean, five mile sprint” or “Dean, watch your brother while I go away for three weeks.”

It worked though, and Dean dropped the towel. His own dick was every bit as girthy as John's, just flushed a dark red rather than John's brownish-purple, springing from Dean's trimmed ginger pubes. John raised an eyebrow. “Do you...?” He waggled a finger at Dean's groin.

“It's called 'manscaping', Dad, and yes. Most men do, it's considered being polite to your partners.” He grimaced at the black thicket at John's crotch, glad they were only going to fuck.

“Whatever. I've never had any complaints. So what now, you get up here?” John unwrapped a condom and rolled it down his cock, hissing a little at was Dean assumed was the excessive stimulation from the pollen.

Dean walked to the bed and climbed on it. Now that the moment was at hand, he felt as unsure as a virgin, and not a little queasy. “You stay there and let me just...climb on-board, okay?” He heard his voice quaver a little, but John seemed to ignore it, obeying Dean and lying quietly, only his straining dick moving.

“Didn't know if I could even get hard, but I guess the pollen is taking care of that,” Dean babbled, trying to ignore the fact that he was straddling John's hips and gripping his father's dick— _his father's DICK_ \--fat and hard and ready to rumble.

John's eyes were shut, his mouth merely a line in his tense face, and Dean was relieved to not feel that gaze on him while he attempted to mount. He closed his own eyes when he felt the latex-clad head nudging his hole, clenched his teeth when he began to push down. The strap-on he'd experimented with had nothing on John Winchester's penis—this fucker was huge, making Dean gasp with every little movement. He inched down, his thighs straining to control his descent, his insides feeling like they were being cleaved by a club.

John started moaning, eyes still shut, and his hands came up to rest on Dean's thighs, blunt fingers scrabbling on his skin. “Dad...Dad, stop...” panted Dean, still struggling to control John's entry inside. “Oh fuck...”

Unexpectedly John bellowed, a deep sound of arousal, fingers gripping Dean's hips with punishing strength. He bucked up, hips giving a mighty flex, and impaled himself fully inside Dean. Dean cried out in pain and shock, unable to react for a minute while John fucked up again and again, Dean's body flopping while he tried to hang on.

John appeared lost in a fantasy, not relinquishing his clutch. In between spears into Dean's body, John flipped them around. Dean whimpered, feeling a total loss of power and fearful of what would happen now, with his powerful father atop him.

John knelt between Dean's knees, thighs pressed tightly against Dean's ass, shifting his grip to the inside of Dean's thighs and pushing down, pinning him wide open. Dean pawed at John's hands ineffectually for a moment, giving up when he realized there was nothing he could do. John squeezed the soft flesh of Dean's thighs, bearing down as he resumed fucking with all of his strength. His hips were unfettered now, and he slammed hard into his son, balls slapping loudly against Dean's sweaty skin. Dean was jerked up and down on the bed, sheets snarling underneath him, mouth open as he gasped for breath under John's onslaught.

John, still with his eyes shut, grunted and huffed like an animal, his sweat dripping onto Dean. Dean lay helplessly, tears caught behind his lids, trickling from the corner of his eyes, his body limp except for his dick, which remained unrelentingly erect. He could feel the moisture of his pre-come collecting on his belly, and his nipples ached on his chest. He reached up to touch them, finding them tender and swollen. Feverishly he caressed himself, tugging and rolling his nipples, touching his fingertips to the puddle on his belly and using it to slick and tease his throbbing buds.

John's cock hit a spot inside Dean, and he cried out in unexpected pleasure. Suddenly the ceaseless ramming of John's dick turned into something ecstatic, stimulating an unknown place that send thrills of euphoria throughout Dean's body. He strained against John, seeking more, flying higher and higher; every jolt of that internal pleasure button reverberating with the sparking excitement of his deft fingers on his chest.

“Ahhhh, fuck!” yelled John, hips locking against Dean and grinding hard. Dean felt John's cock pulsing inside, felt the heat of his release inside the condom. Dean grabbed his cock, gave it one tight squeeze while he pinched a nipple, and came all over himself. He felt like he was soaring, riding a warm wave of ecstasy up to the sky and back, falling bonelessly back into his sated body, sweaty and sore and incredibly pleasured. Everything buzzed—his skin, his chest, his cock, his balls. Dimly he thought he could already feel bruises on his hips and thighs, but he didn't even care.

“Dean?”

Dean opened his eyes sleepily. John's worried face looked down at him. “Son, are you all right?”

The euphoria fell away from Dean. He pushed away from his father. “Shit, Dad...” He looked down and saw his jizz all over himself, his nipples angry and swollen. He grabbed the corner of the sheet and pulled it over himself.

“I'm so sorry,” said John, tears springing to his eyes. “I didn't meant to...I never thought it would...”

Dean dredged up as much bravado as he could. “Hey, we knew we had to do it, right? No harm, no foul.” He got up, stumbling on legs weak from orgasm and strained from the rough sex. “I'm, uh, I'm going to take a shower. Let's get something to eat after, okay? And a beer.” He flashed a smile he didn't feel, and practically ran into the other room.

Under the warm water, Dean cursed. Awkward sex, check.

Awkward sex with father, check.

Awkward sex with father that turned out to be the best sex he'd ever had...check.

Yeah, he was screwed.


End file.
